“And you, my lady?” he asked, lifting his voice. “Are you well?”
Gaia had been watching their reunion very carefully, studying every movement, every kiss. There was something wistful in her eyes.
But she nodded her head.
“I am well,” she said. “I am not injured.”
He smiled faintly at her. “That is excellent news,” he said. “God be praised that you are both safe.”
Gaia smiled weakly, watching Cole and Corisande a moment longer before looking away. She seemed sad, and dazed, and Cole attributed that to the situation they had just been rescued from. He didn’t give it another thought. He was just so grateful that he had Corisande in his arms that he really didn’t think about anything else. They rode the rest of the way to the encampment where Alastor, Ares, Atlas, and Anteaus were waiting.
Alastor scooped Gaia out of the wagon bed, hugging his youngest child tightly. Though Cole was reluctant to let her go, for necessity’s sake, he had to lower Corisande into Ares’ waiting arms. Dismounting, he handed Drago over to a squire and immediately took Corisande back into his embrace in front of her brothers and father. He didn’t even care that they were present with his unbridled display of relief and affection.
If they had a problem with it, then he invited them to say so.
He had an answer ready.
“Are you well, Cori?” Alastor asked her, Gaia still in his arms. “Did they hurt you, lass?”
Corisande shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I am not injured.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am certain.”
“What happened?” he asked. “Can you at least tell us that?”
Corisande wasn’t sure what to say, at first. There were so many answers to that question, but she truthfully didn’t feel like reliving any of it. She was still in the grips of the guilt over Gaia’s sacrifice.
But for her father’s sake, she answered.
“It is difficult to know where to start,” she said. “We were taken as we waited to move forward with the armies yesterday. They took us to their encampment where we spoke with the king.”
Alastor’s eyebrows lifted. “The king?” he repeated. “William?”
Corisande nodded. “He was in the encampment with his men.”
Alastor couldn’t help the expression of shock that crossed his face. “I see,” he said, setting Gaia to her feet. “What did he say to you?”
“He asked my name,” she said. “He wanted to know who was fighting in Berwick. Since every English army flies a standard, I saw no harm in telling him.”
Alastor regarded her a moment. “Did he know you were my daughter?”
Corisande looked at Gaia, the one who had divulged that particularly detail. “He knew,” she said. “Papa, may we sit and rest? I am so very tired.”
Alastor nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Forgive me. I am just so glad to see you that I did not stop to think of your comfort. Please, come; the tents are warm. Are you hungry? There is food.”
Corisande took Gaia by the hand, but not before she ripped the blanket off of her. She cast it to the ground. “Burn that,” she told her brothers. Collecting Gaia’s hand once more, she looked to Cole before she moved. “Are you coming?”
He nodded. “I will be along directly,” he said. “Go ahead.”
Wearily, Corisande moved in the direction of the largest de Bourne tent, finding her way through de Bourne soldiers with cooking fires of their own. Cole, Alastor, Ares, Atlas, and Anteaus watched them go.
“Well?” Alastor turned to Cole. “What happened? Where did you find them?”
Cole sighed heavily. “In the hills where The Marshal believed the Scots to be hiding,” he said. “They are camped up in those hills north of the river.”
“And how did you find my daughters?”
